


Fire Emblem: Three Harems

by SlutWriter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accomplice, Blackmail, Cock Worship, F/F, F/M, Harem, Impregnation, M/F, Multi, Oral, Orgy, Piss-Drinking, Scat (Implied), Smegma, Watersports, big penis, f/f - Freeform, rimjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 17:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20878076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: Using his position as Professor at Garreg Mach, Byleth embarks on a secret quest to unite the women of the Three Houses together under one banner - his, as his personal harem of sex sluts!





	1. Sothis

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not an attempt to add something nuanced or meaningful to the Fire Emblem universe. It is a stroke story, meant for masturbation, filled with all sorts of BDSM-style taboo sexual behaviors. You have been warned. Don't be the person who reads this story and then complains because they expected it to a legit fanfic.

Byleth had dreams of the same green-haired girl, Sothis, almost every night. Now that the rebel defilers had been driven from the Holy Tomb, and the Sword of the Creator was in his hands, those dreams only intensified - adding more confusion to an already confusing situation. Byleth had been a young, talented professor at Garreg Mach monastery, instructing the best and brightest of Fodlan’s future elites, but that all changed when he found himself entrusted with a holy relic - one that had changed him physically in ways he hadn’t revealed to anyone.  
  
Except the green-haired girl. She called herself Sothis, and perhaps by virtue of her being present inside his mind (in a way neither one of them quite understood) he seemed incapable of hiding anything from her.  
  
“Well, I didn’t expect the Sword of the Creator would have this effect!” she said. In his mind’s eye they were in a stone chamber, and she was reclining on a throne of inlaid stone. She talked like a stilted grandmother but had the appearance of a long-haired teen female.  
  
In the dream, Byleth stood across from the throne, armored and dressed as was typical for his instructor duties - except for the breeches. He was totally bottomless and feeling the breeze, with his cock totally exposed. And what a cock it was! The Sword of the Creator’s blessings apparently included an endowment that was beastly in size - a cock befitting the godlike ancient powers that had allegedly forged it.  
  
Sothis floated off of her throne and settled in front of Byleth like a blown leaf, reaching out one arm to grip the hanging shaft. Her small hand could not even encircle the girth. “I should know what this is,” she said, mostly to herself. “A penis! Yes, that’s it. Males have them. How could I forget that? My memory has so many gaps!”  
  
Byleth gritted his teeth as the small but beautiful girl investigated his hanging fuckmeat. And it really was hanging. The shaft was very much unlike the rest of his bishonen body, in that the skin was ruddy, veiny, and textured here and there with bumps. Around the rim of the glans a ring of hard boils promised to scrape and abrade any partner, for pleasure or worse. It seemed to constantly be leaking cum, and a thick foreskin covered most of the head. How long was it? As long as Sothis’ slender arm from fingertip to elbow. The length of one of the rulers in the Garreg Mach classrooms, and perhaps longer.  
  
“Do you feel any different, now that you have this thing?”  
  
Byleth nodded. He did feel different - is “constantly horny” counted as different. Officially he was head of the Golden Deer house at Garreg Mach, but each of the three houses was absolutely stacked with beautiful young female students who, because of his sudden recruitment into teaching, were close to his age. Sothis moved her hand up and down experimentally, pulling the skin of the shaft back and forth. Byleth winced with pleasure and there was a wet, spurting noise as a sloppy spout of pre-cum sprayed down onto the floor, causing Sothis to recoil at once.   
  
“Oh! What was that?” she asked.   
  
Byleth explained the human reproductive system.  
  
“I see,” said Sothis. Her eyes betrayed a sudden, naughty interest. “And that means you’ll use that on the girls here?” She looked thoughtful, if a bit oblivious to what that meant. “I have a faint notion that something is supposed to be reborn. Perhaps this is how it will happen.”  
  
Byleth explained that he couldn’t just walk up to the many girls at Garreg Mach and start fucking them. For one thing, they might not want that. For another, he was their teacher. Third, his new, Sword-enhanced penis was so large as to be rather embarrassing.  
  
Sothis brought her finger to the tip of Byleth’s massive, flaccid endowment and rubbed the digit there, bringing it away coated in whitish-yellow, gooey pre-cum. “It’s so thick!” she remarked, and then wrinkled her nose. “And even in this shared place, where I’m locked away inside you, it fills the air with an odor! I can’t even describe it. It’s very pungent!”  
  
Byleth shrugged helplessly. Sothis, perhaps owing to her strange ephemeral nature and lack of memories of human behavior, extended her tongue and licked at the substance, immediately reacting by turning her head and squinting her eyes. “Ugh!” she complained. “It tastes disgusting! Yet somehow… I don’t hate it.” Her face seemed to have taken on a strange blushing quality. “I’m sure of it,” she went on. “This is the method by which we’ll play a role in Fodlan’s future peace. Don’t you think so?”  
  
Byleth remarked that he couldn’t see how a huge, virile penis could play a role in Fodlan’s future affairs.  
  
“Your students,” Sothis insisted, seemingly growing impatience with Byleth’s reticence. “They’ll be looking to you for guidance. You must bring them together, and together find the shared destiny that I sense in their future. Be cautious if you have to, but don’t be afraid to rush ahead, either - we can use Divine Pulse to undo any mistakes.” She reached out to caress Byleth’s cock again, running her palm down the side. “Use this thing to bring your students under your control and keep them safe- oh! It jumped!”  
  
Indeed it had. Even in his own dreaming mind, Byleth’s cock was becoming hard. Sothis looked somewhat perturbed, cocking her head to the side and putting her hands on her hips, an expression made more accusatory by her pointy, triangular ears being askew. “Hmm! I see you’re already planning what you’re going to do. Are you thinking about that Edelgard? I sense she was quite a role to play in rebirth.” Sothis began to slowly jack Byleth off with her small hands, looking up at him earnestly. “I’m certain that one of these girls will be responsible for the Goddess’ return. You must keep them close to you and make sure they’re ripe to the task!”  
  
Byleth moaned as his cock rose to a horizontal position and Sothis kept jacking. “And when the times comes,” she said, in her melodic voice, “you must use this to plant the seeds of Fodlan’s future!” Cum was leaking all over her hands, and she wrinkled her nose again. “Ugh! It smells so foul, and it’s producing so much of this messy, thick goo! And what’s with this loose skin at the end? It stinks!” She reached underneath with one hand to grope Byleth’s testicles as well - each one too large for her hand to hole and hanging low, nasty and fat in loose ballsack. “Are these were the substance is made? I can feel them churning! Like they’re making more this very second!”  
  
Byleth groaned and uncorked a fat blast of cum directly into Sothis face, splattering her regal, youthful features with yellowish ball chowder. It went everywhere - her mouth, cheeks, nose, even her wide green eyes! He was hosing down the presence in his mind’s eye with a huge, degrading load!  
  
Just as this was happening, though, he jolted awake in the bed, inside his quarters at Garreg Mach, breathing hard. A quick lift of the coverlet revealed that his huge penis had spewed what seemed to be a half-gallon of lumpy, off-white semen all over the sheets.  
  
Byleth sighed. He thought of several things he might say at the moment, but none of them seemed like they would change his strange situation. He began to rise out of his bed. It was, after all, time to meet his students.  
  
**Support Rank with Sothis became S!**


	2. Manuela

Byleth winced as he heard a blundering crash from behind the door of Manuela’s quarters. He had knocked hoping to catch her rather off-guard, and it seemed he’d been rather successful in that effort.   
  
“Just a moment! I’m… I’m not dressed!” called Manuela from behind the door. She had fallen out of bed, no doubt after drinking more than her fill of alcohol in the dining hall or in the seedier taverns around Garreg Mach. Byleth could almost smell the booze through the door, and knew that a well-lubricated Manuela (in more ways than one) would fall for his wiles more easily. He’d been able to trade on his status as an authority figure with most of the younger girls; his students regarded him with something like awe. Faculty was another matter. Manuela had already clumsily hit on him several times, she clearly had a taste for handsome young men. And when she wasn’t flirting, she was drunk and complaining about being stood up by men (again) or her glory days as diva of the renowned Mittlefrank Opera company.  
  
When she opened the door, she was as enticing as ever - Manuela not only had large breasts, but wore plunging front dress which put them front and center on display. A lock of her brown hair was out of place and trailing down over one eye, and when she opened her mouth to speak, Byleth smelled at least four different kinds of libations. “O-oh! Professor!” she stammered, leaning against the door frame. Those big, hanging tits bulged against her dress, the large nipples nearly revealing themselves because of her disheveled dress. “I was just.. I mean-”  
  
Byleth asked if Manuela was drunk, drawing a guilty blush from the older woman. He was just eighteen, of course, and she was in her 30’s, but still eyeing him up like a ripe steak with those honey-colored, expressive eyes. “W-well, I did have a few drinks… I’m… I’m drowning my sorrows!” Manuela looked as if she might cry, showing all of the melodramatic performance that had made her a hit in her opera days. “I was going to meet a nice young man tonight, and dressed my finest… but he didn’t show up! I just sat there drinking, waiting for him, and… and… then, when I was talking home, I saw that he was out on the town with a younger woman!”  
  
Byleth managed to avoid smiling. This was going to be like shooting a Killer Bow at wyvern-riding fish in a barrel! Manuela was lonely, horny, drunk, and had already made several remarks that he should “come by the infirmary” so she could help him with “anything he wanted”. Byleth stepped into the room confidently and grabbed a handful of Manuela’s rear-end, lifting the cheek and groping it, fearing no reprisals. As expected, she gave a cooing purr.   
  
“Ooh! Professor! I never knew you felt that way about me!” Her cheeks were blushing furiously. “What would the students say if they saw us?”  
  
Byleth considered saying that they would probably remark “there goes that drunk whore trying to get some young dick again”, but decided not to choose that option, instead remaining silent as they moved into the room and shut the door behind them. He shoved Manuela up against the wall and drew another moan as he shoved his fingers underneath her dress, feeling the heat between her legs. “Oooh!” she groaned. “You’re so… forceful! Most boys would let an older woman take charge!”  
  
Byleth remarked that he wasn’t ‘most boys’ and pulled Manuela’s hand down to his crotch so she could feel what he was carrying. Her eyes went wide and she gasped into the crook of his neck. “Goodness!” she said. “Is that… it can’t possibly be that big!” Byleth placed a hand on her head and pushed downward; Manuela was certainly interested enough in what she might find to accept the suggestion. She dropped low, dress high on her waist and legs spread, showing off green silk panties that were moist with her own arousal. Her ankles wobbled momentarily in her heels but did not buckle.   
  
“This is… too sudden!” she said, seeming to be having second thoughts as she was confronted by Byleth’s bulging breeches. She turned her head away and seemed to consider her actions. Byleth rolled his eyes impatiently and began to turn away himself, taking a step toward the door. If she wasn’t interested, he said, she could go back to hitting on stableboys and Cyril.  
  
It was a gambit that worked. Manuela’s hand clutched at his wrist desperately. She really was a horny, tipsy old broad. “No! Don’t go - I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want!”  
  
Byleth asked what she would be willing to do.  
  
“Well… I’ll use my mouth on you, of course. And… and once you’re hard, you can-”  
  
He turned away again as if the very idea bored him. Manuela scrambled desperately to hug his leg. “I’ll let you treat me however you like!” she cried. “Just please… fuck me! I won’t complain, no matter what you do!”  
  
Byleth turned back and looked down at Manuela before spitting in her face. She shut her eyes and gasped pathetically, and he unbuttoned himself and let his long, fat shaft flop directly onto her face. He told Manuela she was his cock-holding platform and if she didn’t do a good job, he was going to toss her out into the street like trash and never fuck her again. His sweaty, flopping shaft smeared his expectorate on her beautiful face as she squatted beneath him.  
  
“Y-yes, professor!” she replied, her voice strained as if on the verge of crying. “I”ll… I’ll be a good cock holder!” The thick, long meat was large enough to lay on her face and still curve and droop over the back of her head, dripping pre-cum onto her fur-lined shawl. “You’re so huge! It’s the largest one I’ve ever seen!” The lust in her voice was obvious.   
  
Byleth decided he was tired of listening to her, and lifted his shaft and slapped it down on her face, making her squint and recoil. Then he did it again, and again. He whipped his hardening cock against her nose, forehead, lips, and cheeks, making her blush. As it hardened the sound began to get sharper. After a dozen hard strokes he gathered his large, heavy ballsack and pressed it against Manuela’s mouth, the fat testicles rolling against her lips and pressing up against her nostrils. It, like his shaft, was greasy with sweat. He ordered her to take a big sniff of his nuts, and she obliged by breathing in through her nose until her eyes crossed.  
  
When Byleth finally unsmothered her face, she looked dazed and drunk, with several crinkly (and distinctly green-colored) pubic hairs poking out of her nostrils. “Nnngh!” she moaned. “It smells so strong!” Her face was covered in spit, sweat, and cock welts, and Byleth’s fat endowment had achieved full mast at the degradation. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her roughly toward the disheveled bed, which had rumbled sheets and discarded liquor bottles strewn helter-skelter. He stopped short of the mattress, though, spotting a wicker wastebasket and dumping the liquor bottles out of it before jamming it on Manuela’s head.  
  
“Ugh!” she grunted, her voice muffled.  
  
Byleth told her to beg him to fuck her like she was a piece of trash. The voice that replied was desperate and weeping. “Please, Professor… I’m trash! Please fuck me!” she begged. Byleth pushed her down to all fours with his boot, threw her dress up over her rather shapely thighs and tore her panties down without ceremony before pressing his leaking cocktip against the molten, wet heat of her sex-engorged pussy mound. The response from Manuela was immediate, as she wiggled her hips and tried to press her sex back against his fat knob. She was so slick that sliding inside her was a simple matter of pressing forward firmly with his hips.  
  
By the chiming of the Garreg Mach bells, Byleth knew he had about fifteen minutes until he was required elsewhere for school activities. He judged it wouldn’t take much more than two or three to make this pig squeal. He admired the view of her thick ass - much more full than some of the waifish female students as he sunk his hips down and began to plow her doggy-style, pulling her ass-cheeks apart so he could see her asshole winking as his fat, 11-inch fuck pillar tore into her vaginal canal. Manuela sounded so much like a pig as she squealed and moaned, crying out repeatedly while his fat cocktip slapped her baby sack, that he ordered her to start oinking like one.  
  
“Buuuuuuhiiiiii!” she squealed. “Buuuuuuuuuuuuhiiiiiiiii! I’ll be a good pig… for you… professor! Don’t stop! Buuuuuuuuuuuuhiiiiiiiiiiii” As expected, she cried into the liquor-stinking wastebasket after a minute or two of fat cock hitting deep inside her. Byleth could feel her pussy - practiced at taking cock and soaking wet - spasming around him. After she seemed to cease shuddering and moaning he pulled out and jerked himself to a finish all over her back, buttocks, and asshole, before planting a boot on her ass and propelling her flat onto the floor, face down, her tits pressing against the bedside rug.  
  
**Support rank with Manuela became S!**


	3. Shamir

“I didn’t expect you to invite me for private tea, professor,” Shamir stated, her face bemused. “It’s not really my thing. Though I guess it’s okay to relax once and a while. Even if it is in your quarters instead of the garden.”  
  
Byleth invited the raven-haired mercenary archer to sip from her cup. The blend was basically her favorite Crescent Moon Tea, roofied with an assortment of rather unique mushroom extracts that Byleth had acquired at Anna’s secret merchant shop. He had a plan on how to approach Shamir - the woman hated smooth-talkers and bullshitters - but it would only work if her inhibitions were suitably loosened.  
  
Shamir drank and put her cup down, with a queer look coming over her face, followed by a flushing of her cheeks. The brew was fast-acting. Byleth, avoiding such subjects as centipedes and other icky bugs (which he knew to be among Shamir’s most disliked topics), took a sip of his own tea and broached the subject of fantasies.  
  
“Huh?” Shamir said, taken aback. “What sort of fantasies?”  
  
Byleth leaned forward and told Shamir that everyone has dark impulses, forbidden urges that the Church of Seiros would condemn… but that remain present nonetheless. The conversation got lively! Shamir immediately blushed, a sign that Byleth’s line of conversation was intriguing her with its boldness, but soon returned to the same disaffected poker face she showed to the students and Knights of Seiros.  
  
“Aren’t you an interesting one,” Shamir went on. Her violet eyes seemed to bore into Byleth’s blue ones. “Ever since the Imperials defeated my homeland of Dagda, I’ve been wandering. Most people aren’t so interesting.” She paused, and her lips curled up into a smile. “But I’m not going to give away my fantasies that easily. Not even to someone like you.”  
  
Byleth decided to needle Shamir about the boys at Garreg Mach academy. She’d developed a bit of a reputation for mystery and aloofness, and more than one of the future statesmen in the three houses would no doubt jump at a chance to woo her socially. Shamir laughed coldly. “Them? They’re just kids.” She raised her tea cup and took another sip. “They’re looking for someone to coddle them. I’m more interested in someone who… knows how to be in charge.”  
  
Shamir was dressed in her usual attire which featured a black leather choker, and she slid a finger over it as she spoke. Byleth was suddenly struck by how nice it might feel to wrap his hands around that gorgeous, pale-skinned throat.  
  
Byleth raised his own cup and suggested that Shamir might like his style of disciplining students. Maybe, he said, she might like to join him in doing so, sometime. This also provoked an immediate response in her body language.   
  
“Mmm. You’re even more interesting than I thought,” she mused. “You’d want to discipline them… together? But... you’d still be in charge, right?”  
  
Byleth nodded. He told Shamir she would be allowed to watch. And participate according to his instructions.  
  
“You know,” she said, leaning forward and providing an amazing view of her breasts, which were shapely and alluring as ever behind her black bodice and the ornate cloth decoration that hung from her choker. “Since you were blessed with the Sword of the Chosen… you’re kind of like the leader of the Knights of Seiros, now. Since I’m a mercenary, that means I’m technically your employee.” Even more than most of the girls at Garreg Mach, she had great, flawless skin, great cheekbones, and piercing eyes. “That means I couldn’t disobey your orders.”  
  
Byleth stared at Shamir for a long time as the raven-haired mercenary began to blush. “What?” she asked.  
  
Byleth asked her to take off her top and jacket. It was an order.  
  
Shamir’s face flushed. “Oh, god… I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, biting her lip. She removed her green-blue jacket and then peeled her black garment down to reveal two perfect, large, perky tits with gorgeous pale-pink nipples that matched the coldness of her lips. These were pierced through with bars of silver metal. Byleth looked at the piercings and then up at Shamir’s face.  
  
“It was the style in Dagda,” she explained, and her skin was light enough that the blushing was even more obvious. “I’ve had them since I was younger.” Byleth felt his considerable cock hardening at the thought of Shamir getting her puffy nips pierced as soon as she came of age. He reached out to fondle her tits and found them as full and hand-pleasing as advertised - a little more than a handful; the perfect size, and fitting for her athletic and rather petite frame. He put a thumb’s pressure on them and began to rub, and Shamir squinted her eyes shut and moaned.  
  
“Fuck, that feels… good!” she gasped. “It’s been so long since anyone… since I met a _man_ who could-”  
  
Byleth moved a hand up to her face and slid his thumb into her mouth, feeling lips that were as pert and lovely as her nipples. He asked her if she would help him instill discipline in the young girls of Garreg Mach Academy. Because they needed guidance from an older, worldly warrior such as herself. Rough guidance. And, he added, grinding his thumbs on her nipples some more and jamming his thumb into her mouth for her to suck, it was obvious Shamir hadn’t been with a man in years… but she probably had more than her share of muff-diving encounters with her fellow mercenaries while traveling and living raw.  
  
Shamir moaned at the accusation but didn’t deny it. Byleth told her she was a horny bitch who wanted to shove her ice-queen face in every teen cunt she could get her hands on, then gripped her beautiful lavender hair and pulled her head back sharply. Shamir gasped.  
  
He asked her who she liked. Which of the girls they should go after first.   
  
“The… the small ones,” Shamir confessed. “I… want to see you fuck them.” She reached out to fondle Byleth in the crotch and then gasped at what she found there - a bulging, codpiece-breaking protrusion of surpassing lividity and size. “You’re so fucking big! You’d tear apart their little pussies!”  
  
Byleth nodded and grabbed Shamir by the throat, pulling her up and out of the chair and bending her over the circular table. The tea set and cups clattered to the ground, forgotten. He tore the tights from her graceful thighs, loving the paleness of her hips and buttocks and the pinkness of her glistening pussy, totally engorged and aroused and wet. With a forearm he braced Shamir against the tabletop, mashing her tits down into it and sliding his large penis between her buttocks.  
  
He asked her what else.  
  
“E-Edelgard!” Shamir gasped. “Her most of all! She’s so haughty… I want… I want to see you fucking rape her!”  
  
Byleth grunted and shoved his cock into her sopping box. Shamir moaned like a whore and arched her back as he began to dig and spear his fat meat all the way to the depths of her pussy, scraping against her vaginal walls, reshaping her with his size, making her his woman. It was something she’d not felt ever. “I’ll… I’ll help you Professor!” she moaned. “I want to see you fuck every one of their little inexperienced cunts! They… they probably haven’t even had sex yet, some of them… most of them… imagine how it’ll stretch them out and fuck them up to get their pussies wrecked by your fucking… huge… cock!”  
  
Byleth spanked the shit out of Shamir’s pale ass, leaving red hand-prints as they came together. As he emptied himself, not caring if she got pregnant or not, he told her that her new orders were to score as many girls for him as she could. To gain their trust. Her reward would be to have any of their hot teenage pussies sitting on her dyke face any time she wanted! Shamir enthusiastically agreed to these conditions.  
  
_**PERFECT TEATIME!**_  
  
Byleth pulled out of Shamir’s pussy with a schlorp and let his issue slide down the insides of her thighs, leaving her to gather herself as he sat down in his chair with his fat cock softening and hanging down, watching her like a world. She blushed as she donned her clothed, wiping her pussy with a rag and moaning at the amount of thick semen leaking out.  
  
“You shot so much inside me,” she said, sounding impressed. “Mmm. That was delicious. Thank you. I’ll visit again when I’m free.”  
  
**Support Rank with Shamir became S!**


	4. Catherine

“You? Against me?” Catherine seemed surprised when Byleth made the challenge. There was nobody else present in the training area.  
  
Byleth nodded.  
  
“And I’m to use Thunderbrand and you’ll use… a Rusted Sword?”  
  
Byleth nodded again. To make it interesting, he added, the loser would give the winner a prize.   
  
Catherine laughed. “You’ve risen up the ranks quickly here, Professor - and I don’t doubt that you’re a skilled mercenary. But you should now you can’t hope to defeat me in a duel. Even a friendly one.” She stood with her many-edged blade Thunderbrand on one shoulder, a statuesque, fit blonde with skin tanned golden by the sun, and eyes the same sharp indigo as the sky. “You can ask for any prize you want; you have no chance of winning.”  
  
Catherine was ten years older than him at least, and Byleth’s cock was already stirring at the thought of what her body would look like underneath her knightly armor. Schoolgirls and noblewomen were nice, but something about an untouchable, hard-ass warrior woman really got his libido going, and along with Manuela and Shamir, Catherine represented the most senior female authority figures in Garreg Mach besides Rhea herself. Bringing her into the fold move his plan forward quickly.  
  
Byleth shrugged. If Catherine was afraid to lose, he said, it was okay. They didn’t have to do it. The blonde swordswoman’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Afraid?!” she said, her brow narrowing. “You have some nerve. I’ve been watching you, and I still don’t know why Lady Rhea favors you like she does. You’re not particularly strong, or good-looking. I’ve tried to figure out what’s so special about you that she would give you a professorship of all things, and I don’t see anything.  
  
Byleth said with a smirk that there was indeed something special about him, and he would show it to Catherine once he won the duel. This caused her to bristle with even more anger. “Really? You show absolutely no respect for my skills! Well, I’ll show you why I’m a Knight of Seiros and you’re just a boy! And if you lose, you agree to become my errand boy until… until Crimson Flower! I’ll have you on your hands and knees, mopping the stone alongside Cyril! What do you say to that?” Her face was flushed; she was royally pissed off.   
  
Byleth smiled. Obviously Catherine had been harboring some secret resentment toward him. He said he agreed to her terms if she, upon a losing, would agree to become his slave and obey his every command, as a solemn vow made in the name of the Church of Seiros. Catherine didn’t even think twice before saying yes, and as the two were already in their armor, she raised her weapon and started to advance.  
  
Byleth took out his Rusty Sword, and the duel began. Catherine defeated him over a dozen times, easily clobbering him and disarming him with her superior blade… but she never knew it. Each time she would be victorious, Sothis would use Divine Pulse to rewind time so Byleth could counter he victorious move the next time. Eventually, on the thirteenth try, knowing all of her movements in advance, Byleth was able to disarm Catherine during a thrust and clang the flat of his blade right on the back of her head.  
  
“Uuuuooogh,” she moaned, getting up on wobbly elbows. “H-how… impossible. It’s like… it’s like you knew my exact moves!”  
  
Byleth grinned and told Catherine to pay up. His first order, he said, would be for her to get on her knees with her hands behind her back. Her face was red with shame and disgrace, losing to a newcomer armed with a Rusted Blade. She dropped her head down and, having made a solemn vow to Seiros, seemed to believe she had no choice but to obey. She was extremely loyal to the Church, to the point of killing former allies if they went against the fill of Rhea, and now found herself caught in a web of her own making. To disobey would be blasphemy.  
  
Byleth told her to get on her knees. She grimaced, but did so. It was only when the younger male approached and unbuttoned his breeches that her eyes went wide and she objected. “W-what are you doing?” she asked, and then she exhaled with surprise as she saw Byleth’s foot-long, arm-thick hog flopping down in front of her face. “That’s… you… this is… don’t you have any honor?” she growled. “Why would Rhea trust a person who would do this-”  
  
Byleth smacked the mouthy blonde bitch in the face, then did it again. Forehand, backhand, forehand, backhand. After five strikes, Catherine’s face was dazed and her cheeks were reddening with palm-shaped impacts. Byleth thought of several different dialogue choices, but eventually settled on telling her she was a dumb bitch who needed to learn to shut her cunt mouth, and that it would be his pleasure to piss directly into her face.  
  
He raised his weapon while Catherine hung her head. He ordered her to look up and remain unflinching, and as the powerful warrior woman did so, Byleth let out a deep, satisfied sigh and started to blast her features with a powerful, foamy lance of steaming piss! The flow ererging from his large pisshole was unbelievably powerful and splattered all over Catherine’s face, instantly soaking it. She did flinch, involuntarily, while the stream sprayed over her lips, nose, and cheeks. Byleth put a hand in her hair and told her to open her mouth.  
  
Her eyes blazed at him but she did was she was told, and the young professor proceeded to fill it to the brim with hot piss, groaning extra-loud to show her what a relief it was to use the mouth of the most bad-ass warrior in all of Garreg Mach as a toilet. Catherine took in his piss until her cheeks bulged and her mouth overflowed, and then Byleth told her to swallow. She did, her throat bulging with the girth of the enormous mouthful. She let out a croaking, disgusted sigh when she was done.  
  
Byleth let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the stupidest fucking toilet in Garreg Mach and from that day forward he was going to treat her as such. As his piss stream continued he pries her eye open and pressed his spurting hole against her gorgeous blue irises, first one eye then the other, burning her eyeballs raw and reddening them with his smelly urine. Her nose was next. Catherine gurgled and moaned but still she held her arms behind her back until finally Byleth released her hair and then bonked his cock - the piss-stream diminishing and stopping - against her nose.  
  
He told her to show him how she cleaned a man’s dick cheese. He hadn’t washed his cock in the week leading up to his challenge, he explained, and Catherine looked like just the one to give it some service. He would allow her, he clarified, to use her hands. Catherine glowered at him with reddening eyes and a piss-soaked face, but then focused her eyes on his fat, swarthy cock and grimaced, her nose wrinkling.  
  
“It fucking stinks!” she moaned, and Byleth said he was well aware. Hence, why her services were needed. With two hands, the blonde swordswoman peeled back his foreskin, revealing a layer of yellowish-grey cock slime ringing the bump-laden underside of his unnaturally lewd penis. She croaked out a piss-scented dry heave. “Ugh! You built up so much!” She turned her head away, so Byleth reached down into her hair and told her to get to work or consider her oath before Seiros to be broken and her soul damned to the afterlife.  
  
Gritting her teeth, Catherine looked up with pure enmity… but then her face softened into one of utter resignation. She extended her tongue and started to hesitantly lick around the crud-slimed glans while Byleth crossed his arms and looked straight down, telling her that she was a toilet, that she had been haughty before but now was only fit to clean his thick cock cheese, and asking what Rhea would think if she saw Catherine was nothing but a pissed-on piece of shit. Catherine seemed close to weeping as she lewdly took Byleth’s dick filth in her mouth and chewed the mess, mixing it with her saliva to turn it back into cum and sweat. Byleth pinched her nose shut, making her open her mouth to show what she’d gathered.  
  
Catherine yawned wide to show off the big, nasty smegma load, her eyes blank with utter defeat. Byleth instructed her on what to say next.  
  
“T-thank you for the meal, P-Professor!” she moaned, and then swallowed every bit of his smelly cock cheese, sending it down to her taut stomach with his piss.  
  
Catherine’s shoulders slumped as Byleth told her that she had a new role at the academy - serving as his personal toilet and dick-cleaning station. She would sleep by his side, he explained, cradled with other women, and instead of having to step out to the moonlight, chamber pot or privy to relieve himself, he would just jam his flaccid cock down her throat and take a big, fat piss straight into her stomach.  
  
Catherine whimpered with dismay. But when Byleth told her who else would be joining her in the bed, her eyes lit up. “S-Shamir is… she’s…?” she croaked, her face blushing. Byleth smiled. This rug-munching superdyke would be even easier to control than he thought. He only needed to give her the chance to jam her nose into Shamir’s muff and she’d no doubt oblige his every command.  
  
Byleth told his new toilet to get moving toward his quarters. But, he added, she wasn’t to walk. She was to crawl. Catherine nodded meekly and began to move.  
  
**Support Rank with Catherine became S!**


	5. Orgy 1 - White Clouds

Byleth pulled his legs as he reclined on the edge of his mattress, placing his hands behind his knees and giving his three female companions complete access to his cock, balls, and asshole. He was naked, showing off every bit of his pleasing young male physique; and so too were his companions - Manuela, Shamir, and Catherine.  
  
Manuela and Shamir were on all fours submissively, their bodies beautiful in their contrasts. The songstress’s tits hung down like larger, saggier udders, while Shamir’s were more perky, and so too was her butt, slimmer and more pert than Manuela’s thicc MILF ass. Despite these differences, each woman had a goal in mind - putting their pretty mouths around one of Byleth’s big, churning balls.  
  
“Mmmph! Nnnngh… mmm…” Manuela moaned, hollowing out her cheeks until they were gaunt and extending her lips like an anteater’s snout in order to really suck on Byleth’s heavy nut. “Oh, Professor… you have so much cum in your big balls!” she cooed, rolling the testicle in her hand. On the opposite side of the scrotum, Shamir was obediently sucking, licking, blowing that nut as if it were a cock, slathering it with her spit. Both women pressed used their tongues and lips to full effect, making lewd smacking sounds together. Shamir’s eyes were rapt, looking at Byleth’s nutsack as if she were in love with it.  
  
“I can’t wait to watch you pump all this cum into those tight little pussies,” she teased, pinching and releasing Byleth’s scrotal skin. “Fuck, you make so much cum! I fucking love this big cock!” She leaned forward and planted an adoring kiss on it, sucking hard, and when she came away, she had several green pubic hairs on the rim of her mouth that she was content to leave there.  
  
Meanwhile, underneath and nearest the floor, an on-all-hours Catherine was planting her wet lips directly on Byleth’s anus and licking around the rim, pressing her mouth as deep as she could against the space between his buttocks. Byleth luxuriated on the bed and let his sphincter open up so the famed swordswoman, naked and utterly submissive, could wiggle her tongue around inside his shithole. He told her she was a good shit-eating whore and she could be on toilet duty that night. If she did a good job he would let Shamir sit on her face. As soon as he mentioned this, both Shamir and Catherine seemed to double their efforts to tease his undercarriage. After reviewing two options, Byleth decided he would like to see Shamir eating Catherine out right at that moment, and ordered her to do so.  
  
“Oh… thank you, Professor!” Catherine moaned, looking around behind herself as Shamir crawled over and spread her tanned, toned ass-cheeks. She had an athletic bubble-butt that matched the rest of her body; powerfully built and graceful including a six-pack of visible abdominals. She had several scars criss-crossing her form that were of a lighter pink color than her skin; this only added to her battle-mistress allure. She groaned into Byleth’s asshole as Shamir started licking away.  
  
Manuela slithered opportunistically up onto the bed and licked around Byleth’s nipple, sucking it gently and then sucking on his fingers like a whore, a bedroom look dominating her honey-glaze eyes. “Mmm, do I get to join in the fun, Professor?” she asked, and reached down to stroke Byleth’s long, thick shaft. “I need you inside me so badly, Professor!”  
  
Byleth replied that he knew she did, she was the most desperate old whore in all of Fodlan and had already been dumped or stood up by half the campus. Manuela blushed at his verbal abuse and turned her face downward. After a moment, he told her to lift her leg over and squat her big ass on his cock.  
  
Byleth put his hands behind his head and leaned back as Manuela squatted like a cheap hooker on his dick, lowering her hips until his bulging, swollen cocktip spread her wet cunt flaps and burrowed into her cunt. She began to lift and drop herself on it. Meanwhile, Catherine was moaning into his asshole and digging even deeping, totally cleaning out his ass with her tongue, while he got to listen to (and occasionally glimpse, past Manuela’s riding) Shamir licking her pussy out. It really was the life! At first he’d been skeptical about Sothis’ plan to bring Fodlan together by unifying the future female difference-makers of the land into a subjugated group under his control, but cockamamie plan or not, it sure had _upside_.   
  
Manuela rode until she could take no more, and they came together as he big tits bounced and her face screwed up into an eye-rolling expression that the Mittlefrank Opera Company would never have sanctioned. She sank down and took every inch of his meet while he unloaded inside her with thick, chunky spurts that were audible as they burst from his dick and straight into her unprotected baby room, choking it with a gooey, gelatinous mess of semen. “Oh… Seiros help me… it’s… not a safe day!” Manuela groaned as she orgasmed pathetically. Byleth told her that her spinster ovaries were probably covered in dust anyway.  
  
“That’s right… make way for someone younger,” Shamir insisted, lifting her head from Catherine’s pussy and crawling onto the bed on the opposite side, suckling around Byleth’s nipple much like Manuela had done before replacing her atop Byleth’s cock. Manuela had fucked while facing Byleth, Shamir straddled him and turned around to show her ass, squatting and reaching beneath to steady his dick and guide it into the hole she wanted… her anus! She cried out as the Professor’s girth sunk into her shitpipe. “Fuck! You’re… ripping apart my… asshole!” she groaned, but that didn’t stop her from dropping her hips. “I want… I want you to make it hurt! Urgggggh!” She took six wrist-thick-inches, then eight, then ten and more. “Oh, fuck…” she moaned again, rubbing a hand over her taut, pale belly. “I can feel it inside me, it’s so fucking deep! It’s fucking ruining me!” She didn’t sound unhappy about it as she started to pump and twerk and hip-drop all over her Professor’s dick.  
  
Byleth enjoyed the view of all that pert, pale bubble-ass bouncing on his dick, while Manuela clung to his side and also watched, in the aftermath of her orgasm. Catherine was still teasing his asshole with her tongue, having been instructed to continue to do so until ordered otherwise, but the way her powerful hips were wiggling, it was clear she missed Shamir’s tongue. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Shamir began bringing her ass low enough that the round cheeks started to bounce off Byleth’s abs, sinking every inch into her asspipe. Her body was glistening with hot sweat and the way she was leaning her head back, like an animal howling at the moon, it was clear that she would be having an orgasm soon.  
  
“It’s… too big!” she groaned. “It’s wrecking me! I’m gonna… I can’t....” she gasped, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she blasted a hot arc of piss straight down onto Catherine’s head. “Oh, fuck! Take my piss you fucking dyke! You fucking toilet!” she admonished the blonde woman. “Don’t try to claim you don’t like it, I know what you want from me, what you’ve always wanted!” Catherine moaned as her face was washed down in hot piss, Shamir fell backward, braced her arms on the mattress to avoid falling on Byleth, and her body thrummed with a brutal orgasm while she sprayed piss all over Catherine and Byleth pumped shot after shot of cum deep in her asshole. His balls twitched four, five, six, seven times, and each shot was copious and thick enough to make a _slllllllrrrrtt_ sound inside Shamir’s asshole.  
  
Byleth, pleased to find his penis capable of great feats of short refraction, knew what he wanted to see next. He pushed Shamir off his cock, which emerged from her moist asshole with a _schlorp_, and told her to stand, put one of her legs up on a chair and then lift one of her ass-cheeks to let the other women tongue her hole.   
  
“Fuck, if they do that… there’s so much. I can’t hold it in,” Shamir whined, but that didn’t stop her from obeying his command to the letter. Manuela and Catherine crawled over, naked, to languish on all fours, craning their necks up to pay oral attention to her wet pussy and her well-fucked asshole. Byleth wrapped a hand around his cock and started jerking, having a front row seat to what happened next. Shamir grabbed Manuela’s hair and then her stomach gurgled, releasing a fat, sputtering cum fart directly into her face, splattering it with thick seed. _Spphphphphpttttht!_ Shamir blushed deeply at the lewd, nasty shitting sounds coming from her fucked-out asshole, and Manuela moaned as she licked the sperm from her lips, grateful any man found her worthy to drink his semen. Catherine nudged her face in, just happy to be able to cunt-lap Shamir a little, before Shamir grabbed her hair as well and forced mouth against asshole.  
  
_Spppphhhththhtthtt! Spppptht! Sbblpbpbpbpbt!_ She cut a succession of loose cum-farts directly into Catherine’s mouth, instantly filling it, having another groaning orgasm from the thick sperm making her feel good on the way out. “Oh, you fucking toilet!” she gasped. “You’re so lucky you get to drink the professor’s cum! I can’t wait until he makes all of us pregnant!”  
  
Byleth, cock-half hard, leaned forward and stood up from the bed’s edge, walking over to Catherine and grabbing her by the hair, yanking her head back and spitting in her face. The swordswoman groaned at the abuse, her mouth smeared with semen from Shamir’s ass and pubes from Byleth’s cock, balls and asshole. Byleth said he would impregnate all of them in good time; for now, they would help him capture the affection of the other females at Garreg Mach. He only needed to decide what house to start with - The Black Eagles, the Blue Lions, or his own Golden Deer.  
  
They could also serve him in other ways, too - like serving as toilets. He stuffed his flaccid cock into Catherine’s pussy, just hard enough to make the penetration work, and felt his throbbing tip press up against the entrance to her womb. He asked her if she’d ever been with a man since she was such a rug-munching, ass-eating toilet dyke, and she only whimpered. Byleth continued on, saying since her barren warrior-woman womb was useless for having children, he might as well use it as a toilet. Catherine’s eyes went wide at the proposed violation.  
  
“Oh, that’s fuckin’ hot,” Shamir commented, with Manuela clinging to her leg and looking on. Byleth exhaled and unloaded a long, leisurely piss directly through Catherine’s disused cervix and into her baby sack, flooding her womb, pumping hot, steaming piss up into her oviducts and bathing her life-giving egg-layers with his sour, foamy waste. He informed Catherine that her womb was worth less than dogshit now but she was at least useful as a toilet for him to piss and jerk off into. Later that night she would even get the honor of eating shit straight from his asshole.  
  
Catherine whimpered, but Shamir started fingering herself. “I want to see that, too,” she asserted. Byleth pulled his cock out, uncorked a spraying creampie of urine from Catherine’s tanned cunt, and smiled with satisfaction and he pushed her face-first onto the floor.  
  
Things really were going well. But the question remained… having secured the mercenaries and faculty, which of the Three Houses would he seduce first?


End file.
